


Small Steps

by blackcoffeeandteardrops



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:46:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6324397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackcoffeeandteardrops/pseuds/blackcoffeeandteardrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the small steps in life, the little things, that in the end can make all the difference.// One shot, revival era MSR.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Steps

**Author's Note:**

> To the tumblr anon who ages ago requested a revival era reunion. I'm sorry for taking five hundred years, and I know this probably isn't exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it. Feeling a bit rusty to be honest. This is set somewhere between "Mulder and Scully Meet the Weremonster" and "Home Again", at the point where they're working their way back to each other, because somehow we all have to make sense of the ridiculous break up nonsense CC left us with.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!

“You know,” Mulder says, hands reaching to hike his pants up as he awkwardly climbs over a fallen tree, his breath coming out in white tendrils that float away from him, “I’m starting to think we might be getting too old for this.”

Scully laughs, tucking the medical bag she’d carried up the hill with them under her arm, grateful for the way he reaches a hand out to help her climb over the tree. The brief moment of physical contact is a welcome source of warmth in the chilly woods of Maine, but she tries convincing herself otherwise when he lets go. “You might be, Mulder. But personally, I’m just fine. I’d appreciate it however if the next time you rouse me from sleep in the early hours for something case related, that it be somewhere slightly warmer.”

His immediate response is to ask her how she’d react in the early hours if he woke her for something unrelated to a case, but bites the words back before he can speak them out loud. Aside from a night spent together in a hotel room after he’d found out she still slept in his shirts, the last time they slept together was before she’d packed her bags to leave. Still, the ice between them had been thawing, especially since they’d returned to the FBI together, but Mulder remained afraid that he’d somehow be overstepping his bounds. He turns to offer something lighthearted instead, but stops, reaching out to grasp her arm & get her to stop walking. “Scully, you’ve got a little something--” he trails off, free hand gesturing up to his own face. 

Scully frowns in confusion before an all too familiar feeling settles in. She reaches up, dabbing at her top lip, only vaguely surprised at the crimson staining her fingertips when she pulls her hand away. “It’s just a nosebleed, Mulder. I’m fine.”

“Do you have anything in there to help stop it?” he asks, pointing to her medical bag. After over two decades, the sight of his partner’s blood is unfortunately not new to him, but he finds it unsettling all the same. He watches her search her bag, coming up fruitless, and he checks his pockets for a handkerchief or even fast food napkin he might have stowed away. Unwittingly, he flashes back to the times he’d always made sure there was kleenex in every rental car they’d used, and how he’d always carry extra on his person, just in case. 

“The car is only a few minutes away, I’ll be--”

“You won't be fine, Scully, not when you’re still bleeding,” Mulder interrupts, surprising even himself with the concern evident in his voice. 

“It's just a nosebleed, I really will be okay,” she replies, pinching the bridge of her nose to try and stop the bleeding. “It's most likely due to the cold weather and air pressure here. Do you remember the winter we spent in that cabin in North Dakota? I got them all of the time.”

If asked, he’d say his memories of that winter were of the nights they spent laying in front of the fireplace, recommitting every freckle on her skin and curve of her body to memory. He gulps, reaching up to his neck, loosening his tie and pulling it free.

“What are you doing?” Scully asks as he holds the tie in her direction. “I can't get blood all over your tie, Mulder,” she says, but when he won't budge she takes it from him, wiping at the blood on her top lip before holding it to her nose. She feels his eyes on her without even looking in his direction, and lets out a tired sigh. “Let's get moving. I need to head back to the motel to pick up a few things while they’re bringing the bodies into the lab.”

“Scully--” Mulder says, hand reaching out to rest on shoulder. He slowly draws in a deep breath, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Telling him she's fine again will do no good, that much she knows. The unmasked concern written on his face takes her a little by surprise. It's the most emotion she’s seen from him since they re-entered each other’s orbit--since long before that if she's being honest. She doesn't have to ask to know what memories are flashing through his mind. “I had a six month check up several weeks ago, during which all of my results came back normal,” Scully tells him, but she knows as the words leave her mouth they’re not enough. “I can schedule more tests when we get back to D.C.. Along with buying you another one of these,” she says, smiling and holding up the tie.

He shakes his head, feeling somewhat guilty at her attempt at lightening the mood for his benefit. They’ve been doing this lately, finding themselves in moments heavy with their history but not quite sure what to do about it. It's a bit like a stand-off he thinks, the two of them dancing around each other, circling closer but neither willing to completely cave in. He wants to tell her he’s better, that he’s healthy and that he’s willing to try if she is, but he’s also afraid of how she’d react. Getting her to agree to work with him again is miracle enough for now, he thinks. He watches her shove the tie into her jacket pocket and shakes his head. “You don't owe me anything, Scully.”

“Maybe not,” she replies, shrugging. She reaches up to her shoulder, pulling Mulder’s hand away and weaving her fingers through his. There's a part of her that questions the unprofessionalism of the act, but she finds she doesn't care. “I don't suppose you’d be interested in lunch? Someplace warm? I spotted a deli close to the motel. I need to pick up reports on the other victims, but then we could grab something to eat. I’m buying.”

Mulder smiles, knowing better than to argue with Scully when she's set her mind on something--this time. They’ve had countless meals together on cases over the years, and maybe this isn't anything different, but he’d like to think it's a start. He gives her hand a squeeze before letting go, gesturing to the path ahead of them. “Lead the way.”


End file.
